What A Sweet Suicide.

She's torn to pieces,
left lying on the floor.

It seems as if nobody bothers,
Bothers to care anymore.

Invisible to the world,
Insignificant and worthless in every possible way.

The crimson and purple lines beneath the sleeves,
They bear way to her innermost thoughts.

"If you only looked past my mask and dried tears!"
She would silently scream beneath the plastered on smile,

Hoping and praying for a Savior,
Who'd never cease to hide from those desperate eyes.

How does one find love and shelter in a world so cold,
In a world that bears no sign nor drop of glistening hope.

We're all lost beneath our transgressions, tribulations and lies.
Hoping for change, but not bothering to look for an open door.

Until finally we depart and fly away, on wings made of paper mache
And needle pricks, betrayed and trapped until the very end.